The Heiress. Cathy Gillen Thacker

was looking at him with a mixture of suspicion and disdain. So she remembered seeing him at the baggage claim. What she didn’t know was that he had been at the airport only to see if she had made it safely back to the States, and what—if anything—she planned to do upon her return from Switzerland. When she had gone straight to see her sister, Iris, he had hoped—unrealistically, he now saw—that she would leave any confrontations with Tom Deveraux until tomorrow.

      “Why aren’t you inside with the others?” Daisy continued. “Why were you sitting out here in your SUV watching that mansion and that party—” Daisy pointed to the Deveraux clan, visible through the windows, milling about in the formal front rooms “—like some little match boy looking in?”

      Because that’s exactly what I am, Jack thought. A kid from the docks, who just works for these people. Aware he’d get nowhere if he let his emotions get the best of him, Jack did his best to contain a weary sigh. He faced Daisy stoically. “Because Tom asked me to try and talk to you if you showed up here tonight.” Looking for trouble.

      Bitterness clouded Daisy’s Deveraux-blue eyes. “And why did he think I might do that?” she asked in a dangerously soft, sexy voice. She regarded Jack carefully, as if trying to gauge how much he knew. And whether or not it might be possible to get him on her side, instead of his boss’s.

      As the seconds—and silence—drew out, Jack ignored the vulnerability suddenly emanating from Daisy. He had a job to do here—it was Tom he was protecting, not her. Jack shrugged and continued to keep his own emotions out of it. “Tom knew you were headed back from Switzerland. That you’d be tired—” and perhaps overwrought “—when you got here.” Not to mention confused, angry, hurt.

      Jack had been instructed to provide the strong shoulder to cry on and the voice of reason until Tom could get to Daisy and deal with her tomorrow once she settled down.

      “Then he also knows what I found out while I was over there.” Daisy’s vulnerability disappeared as suddenly as it had bloomed. “Perfect.”

      Jack ignored the reproach in her tone. “It’s not what it seems, Daisy.”

      “Of course not.” Daisy shook her head in mute disapproval. “Which is why Tom Deveraux is suddenly so desperate to keep me away from him and his family.” Daisy reached around Jack and punched the doorbell. Seconds later, Theresa Owens, Tom’s housekeeper answered the door. She was wearing a navy-blue uniform-dress with a white collar. Her auburn hair was drawn into a knot on the top of her head. “I need to see Tom,” Daisy said without preamble.

      Theresa hesitated. “This really isn’t a good time, Ms. Templeton. The family is having a private dinner this evening.”

      Daisy smiled in a way Jack didn’t begin to trust. “You mean they’re all here,” she said.

      “Yes.”

      “Even the former Mrs. Deveraux?”

      “Yes.”

      “Splendid.” Head held high, Daisy pushed past Theresa and advanced through the foyer.

      Jack swore silently to himself. Short of dashing after Daisy, tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her out to the curb, there was no way to stop her from making a scene. All he could do now was try to limit the damage. “I’ll handle this,” Jack promised Theresa as he strode after Daisy, who was already following the laughter and marching into the double drawing room, where, from the looks and sound of it, a wonderful, warm and intimate family party was going on.

      Tom’s oldest son, Chase, was the first Deveraux to spot Daisy. Champagne in hand, the magazine editor made his way toward her. “Hey, Daisy,” Chase greeted her cheerfully with a kiss on the cheek. “You’re just in time to toast the newest members of the Deveraux clan. Amy and Gabe’s wife, Maggy, are both pregnant. And the entire family is, as you can imagine, thrilled to be expanding.”

      Jack noted that news only made Daisy’s expression turn more turbulent. “Too bad that hasn’t always been the case.”

      Chase’s forehead creased. As did Amy’s, Gabe’s and Mitch’s, all of whom were standing within earshot. Watching, it was all Jack could do not to groan out loud. There was no telling how Tom’s children with Grace were going to react to the news of their father’s digression years ago. Chase was probably the best bet for understanding. The oldest son, and publisher of the popular Modern Man magazine, had sowed a few wild oats of his own before he married his childhood sweetheart and settled down. Mitch was a possibility, too. The most like his dad, he was a pragmatic businessman, who could always be counted on to see through the murkiness of any situation, get to the bottom line and do whatever was necessary to correct the situation. Third-oldest son Gabe was known for his compassion, and as a critical-care physician, he was no stranger to people’s most private problems. Amy, the baby of the family and the owner of her own redecorating business, was always pulling for a reunification of her divorced parents, despite past hurts. Might not want to start with her, Jack thought.

      Unfortunately, even if Tom and Grace’s children eventually understood and accepted what had happened years ago, Tom’s ex-wife, recently unemployed network television mornings-news show host, Grace Deveraux, probably would not. All of which, of course, Jack’s boss, Tom Deveraux, realized. Which was why Tom was glaring at Jack, as if he couldn’t believe the way Jack had let him down, now, of all times.

      Desperate to control the damage, Jack grabbed Daisy’s arm and pulled her against him, so her slender back was pressed against his chest. Bad enough, Jack figured, that Daisy had barged in here, uninvited, despite Theresa Owens warning this was not an appropriate time to be a drop-in guest. Tom didn’t need all four of his children, their spouses and his ex-wife, witnessing this confrontation, too. “You don’t want to do this,” Jack murmured persuasively in Daisy’s ear. “Not now. Not this way.”

      “The hell I don’t!” Daisy jerked free of Jack’s staying grip and whirled to face him. Temper shimmered in her eyes. “I’ve been hidden in the shadows long enough!”

      “Daisy—what are you talking about?” Amy asked, aghast. “What’s wrong?”

      Tom threaded his way through the group, while Grace hung back looking, if possible, even more distressed.

      Jack wrapped his arm around Daisy’s shoulders companionably and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I think you’ve made your point, now let’s go,” Jack said firmly. “I’ll make sure you get to talk to Tom alone first thing tomorrow morning.”

      “Thanks, but I’d rather make a scene.” Daisy broke loose and strode forward, heading straight for Tom. “No more pretending, Daddy. The secret’s out.”

      DAISY’S TEMPER skyrocketed as Amy regarded her father in confusion. “What secret?” Amy demanded, upset. “And why is Daisy so mad at you?”

      Even more color drained from Grace’s face. A mixture of guilt and culpability shimmered in her eyes. Which meant, Daisy thought, even more hurt, that Grace had known, too. And had helped—maybe even encouraged—Daisy’s birth father to walk away…and pretend that Daisy had never existed. Or was she the reason Tom and Grace had eventually divorced? Daisy wondered. Or had there been other, even more devastating problems, too?

      “Daisy and I need to talk privately,” Tom told everyone in the room sternly.

      Deep in her heart, Daisy had hoped that there was a highly romantic and even laudable reason Tom Deveraux had never lifted a finger to rescue her from her unhappy childhood. In the wake of the cold disapproval emanating from him, however, the guilt and the grim resignation, her misguided hopes fled. Like it or not, she had to face it. She had been willfully and wrongly abandoned—by both her birth mother and birth father. Even worse, to this day, neither of her real parents wanted her in their lives. She was to Tom and Grace and Iris, and God only knew who else, exactly what she was to Richard and Charlotte Templeton—a sordid, unwanted reminder of a time best forgotten. Well, no more. She was tired of feeling ashamed, of being blamed for something that was definitely